


we love like fools

by Anonymous



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day, just a small little fic i wrote instead of sleeping bc i'm big sad, post-disbandment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: if yohan had any sense, he would be curled up in his dorm right now, wrapped tightly in a blanket, locked away from the intruding cold. instead, he has resorted to recklessness, travelling the streets of seoul to meet his lover.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Kim Yohan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	we love like fools

**Author's Note:**

> (title from fools by lauren aquilina)

if yohan had any sense, he would be curled up in his dorm right now, wrapped tightly in a blanket, locked away from the intruding cold.

instead, yohan has resorted to recklessness. he peers at his reflection in a passing window, lamenting the long walk. his mask has slipped down, exposing the tip of his nose and the rise of his cheekbones where the skin has flushed pink in the winter air. his numb fingers are probably turning a similar shade, since he’d lent his few pair of gloves to his younger members ( _ ex _ -members, he has to remind himself) and never gotten them back, so he shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat.

it’s interesting, really, that on the day companies spend hours marketing as a time for burning passion, yohan is less focused on the heat of intimacy that used to eagerly take him over when he’d catch a glimpse of tattooed skin and sharp collarbones. now he’s just seeking warmth, a comfortable embrace, something soft and sweet to eb away the chill in his bones.

his feet carry him to a crossroads, where a bustling street full of happy couples, arms-linked, oblivious, connects to a dimly lit alley, a side street barely noticeable beneath the sea of artificial lights and overly-decorated storefronts. a perfect alcove for secrets to be shared and hands to be held without a single person paying unwanted attention. yohan’s destination.

a bell chimes when yohan pushes open the cafe door, poorly dried pink paint chipping off in his grasp. the place is small, stacks of skinny tables squished together in every corner, but it’s empty in the dead of night. little paper hearts are hanging beside fairy lights, romance-themed specials are scrawled on a chalkboard, red and white flowers are placed delicately across the counter top. there’s something heartwarming about the clumsy attempts at decoration.

for years, valentine’s day never meant anything to yohan. he’d known love in a childish sense, in glances across a playground and ameteur attempts at confession cards, but as his naivety melted away, he’d become tied at the knot of a black belt to hours of training. the knot changed, transformed, became the paper of a company’s contract, but his dedication to learning never wavered. and yet, suddenly, a leader,  _ his  _ leader, had filled the vacancy in his heart and the obligations of an idol went to the back of his mind.

instead, his thoughts were, are and will be filled with han seungwoo and his little lovesick self can pick him out so easily, gaze centering on the man huddled against the back wall, cap low over his face, tall frame too tense in the calm atmosphere of the cafe’s sickly sweet interior. seungwoo’s apprehension and the tremble in his own palms is reminder enough of the risk in this, in the danger of meeting so publically despite the rocky relationship between their agencies, in the worry that their facade of friendship would crumble.

but it’s not like they have anywhere else to go. the dorm yohan had once so eagerly called his home,  _ their  _ home, is gone, likely sold off to the next set of brand new artists. the nights yohan could spend beneath seungwoo’s sheets, their limbs tangled together, seungwoo’s arms around his back and lips pressed against his forehead, are a distant memory now. their only place of reprieve is the streets of seoul. and so he timidly walks forward, not meeting the inquisitive eyes of the sole worker, avoiding the few other patrons. 

_ seungwoo-hyung _ , yohan murmurs, voice low and quiet on purpose, barely audible even in the silence of the barren room. the other’s head perks up and yohan winces at the stark contrast between his unblemished skin and the heavy darkened circles beneath his half-lidded eyes. the skin around them wrinkles as seungwoo smiles wide beneath the confines of his mask, but his show of happiness does nothing to ease the spark of sympathy and yohan wishes he had the power to so easily wipe away the evidence of the other’s exhaustion. 

yohan tries to swallow down the words of concern that rise up his throat as he takes his seat, hoping the warring emotions aren’t visible in his wide eyes. there’s so much he wants to say and yet so much he knows he can’t. this day is meant to one of celebration and yohan can’t bring ruin to what little is left of normalcy between them. he’ll bite his tongue, keep his mouth shut, even if it kills him inside that months ago he could let himself be an integral part of seungwoo’s support system and now he feels as if he is constantly walking on eggshells.

seungwoo has already purchased his go-to drink, always the thoughtful leader prioritising his members (even if he’s lost the right to call him  _ that  _ out loud, he’ll never stop being the person yohan would follow to the ends of the earth unconditionally), and he whispers his thanks shakily, slightly off-kilter. the fondness so evident in seungwoo’s expression always manages to leave him breathless, even if it’s invisible to everyone around them, and the mug quivers where it’s clutched in his unsteady hands. the drink is half cold already and yet yohan gulps it down greedily, trying his best to not stare like a lovesick fool.

he’s too powerless to the urge, however, peering at seungwoo shamelessly over the rim of his cup. it’s been weeks since yohan could properly take in the sight of him, weeks of only blurry video calls at 2am when seungwoo had finished overextending his practice hours and when yohan couldn’t fall asleep peacefully without dongpyo at his side. on that single day yohan could finally witness him in person, he was perched from afar for most of it, holding onto seungyoun’s side to keep himself grounded, before those precious minutes backstage where he could cling to his leader without judgement. 

and then reality broke through again, separated from the person he’d come to rely on most. it’s an unwanted, intruding realisation that seungwoo is already different, a little thinner and rougher around the edges, hair an untamed mess over tired eyes. yohan feels wrong himself, a stranger in his own skin, his face a little fuller and hair styled immaculately from his latest photoshoot, but that sickly, fatigued gaze seungwoo can’t hide is reflected back in yohan’s weary expression. after the news had been unceremoniously dropped at their feet, yohan was bed bound by his own inability to fake a smile while seungwoo worked himself half to death. they have both been through too much and it’s starting to crawl across their skin.

seungwoo can sense yohan’s darkening mood so easily and as soon as yohan sets his drink down gently, he takes yohan’s smaller hand in his larger own, aimlessly tracing patterns across the ridges of his fingers. yohan can already feel a blush rising over his face at the show of affection, burying his face into his wool scarf to hide his embarrassment, but it’s a successful attempt to soothe away his worries. under seungwoo’s attention, the world around them slips away for just a second and seungwoo brushes his lips over yohan’s knuckles, discreetly, barely, just for a fleeting second. it’s a compromise when neither of them can go that far but even just the small amount of physical contact means everything to yohan, touch-starved and desperate. 

when seungwoo kisses him, no matter what, where, when or why, it feels like a pledge.  _ things will be better. we’ll see each other again soon. i promise.  _ and even if yohan feels his faith is fading, he’ll believe in anything his hyung tells him, for better or for worse.

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm alive. kind of.
> 
> i think it's no surprise that the event that shall not be named has hit me pretty fucking hard. i spent the entire month of january going back and forth between feeling drained and numb to overly emotional and (for lack of a better word) devastated. i know i shouldn't be taking k-pop that seriously, but in all my experiences with members leaving and my one experience with the d word, i've never felt this way before. x1 gave me so much happiness in 2019 and i hope the boys can prosper this year, i just don't want any of them to suffer anymore
> 
> i don't know how writing is going to go for me from now on. i've had no inspiration this year until literally tonight when i just quickly wrote this all up, but i'm hoping that if oneits' projects go more smoothly i can return to a less emotionally damaged state and start working on things that make me happy again.
> 
> thank you for reading <3


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